


Undone

by Earlgreyer



Series: House of Crows [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Cutting, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Food, French Kissing, Gay Sex, Kissing, Knifeplay, Light Angst, M/M, Mental Instability, Minor Character Death, Murder, Neck Kissing, Oral Sex, Past Torture, Poison, Poisoning, Self-Harm, Sex, Smut, Threats, Threats of Violence, Touching, Violence, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Rings, men kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-20 05:59:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8238520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Earlgreyer/pseuds/Earlgreyer
Summary: Six years have passed since the defeat of the Archdemon by the Warden, and Zevran must decide what it is he really wants.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the final installment of my House of Crows series. It's been a true labor of love, with maybe just a little hate thrown in for the struggles along the way. I truly can't thank my friends enough for supporting me through this series and cheering me on, and editing my comma overuse, and spelling and content flubs, and just generally being the bestest friends anyone could ask for. Special thanks to little_abyss for being there from day one over a year ago!! This story would have died a quick death without her support.
> 
> This work is complete but I'm posting it chapter by chapter because I'm a glutton for punishment.
> 
> Tags will be updated as we go, and i'll also post notices at the beginning of chapters where the tags change because if you're like me, you don't read tag updates, and I don't want anyone to be upset.

**Chapter 1:**

Zevran stretched and groaned, completely content to lie on the soft blanket with the last of the day’s Autumn sun warming his bare skin. The smell of overly ripe oranges and drying grass drifted through the afternoon air. Nico grumbled and tightened his arm around him, rubbing his scruff-covered cheek against his abdomen. “Don’t move, Bello. I’m very happy right here.” 

Zevran chuckled. “I am very happy to have you right here.” He carded his fingers through the dark curls tickling his chest. “There is nowhere else I want either of us to be right now.” It was truer than he’d ever imagined possible. Early on, he’d wondered how long they’d be together. He hadn’t been sure Nico would put up with the danger and frequent absences that came with his line of work. But he _had_ stayed, and six years later, Zevran was happier than he’d ever been. 

“Bello, are we still going to Antiva City for Satinalia?” Nico’s voice was low and sleepy. 

Zevran closed his eyes and smiled. “If that is what you wish, then we will go.” It meant staying with Nico’s father, Stefano, but that was a small price to pay to see him happy. “You will just have to give me an extra special Satinalia present to make it up to me.”

Nico stirred and placed a soft kiss against his hip before resting his chin on Zevran’s belly. “Is that so? Hmmmm. We’ll see about that.” Zevran laughed and jerked away as Nico playfully pinched his side. He waited for the next attack, expecting to be tickled or something equally silly. Instead, there was a long pause followed by a heavy sigh. “You know he’s going to ask when we’re getting married.” 

Zevran brushed a stray lock of hair from Nico’s forehead, tucking it behind his ear. _You have such beautiful eyes, querido_. “He always asks. The answer is still the same. When it is safe for you, we will be married.” He caught the sudden flash in Nico’s silver eyes and sighed. _Our blissful day of relaxing and being together is at an end._

Nico sat up, holding his gaze. “And when will that be, Zevran?”

 _Braska_. Nico only used his name when he was incredibly angry. “ _Querido…_ ”

“Don’t _querido_ me. You know as well as I do that this is just an excuse you use to put it off indefinitely.” Nico stood, grabbed his clothes from the ground and aggressively yanked them onto his body. “I have been training with you and the _Cuchillo_ every day for the past five years. _Every day_. There are Crows who are sent on assignment who have been given less training, by less skilled instructors. I _am_ perfectly able to defend myself should any one or more people choose to attack me. And you _know_ it.” 

Zevran had never seen him this angry. He watched Nico pull a trembling hand through his hair, jaw set stubbornly. _How do I make him understand?_ “ _Amor_ , I _want_ to marry you. Nothing would make me happier.” And he did. But he couldn’t forget the sight of Rinna lying in a pool of her own blood, her once vibrant eyes lifelessly staring out at nothing. _I can’t lose you too._

“Nico, you know my mission is not complete. The Grandmasters will be the most dangerous targets yet. This is why I have waited so long to eliminate them. They have been very careful, and do not give me many openings.” He stood and took a step towards Nico who backed up, hand held out to keep him away.

“Stop. I won’t let you touch me, and kiss me, and distract me into letting this go. I have allowed you to do that for far too long.” Zevran’s heart sank as he saw his lover’s determination. “I will not be the secret that you keep. I’ve already walked away from someone who claimed they loved me, yet wanted me to remain a secret. I will _not_ stay hidden any longer, Zevran. Six years is _more_ than enough.” Nico squared his shoulders and drew a deep breath. “I have never asked you to give up your life as a Crow. I never will. I’ve accepted it as part of who you are, and I was well aware of what you did when we started this. I know that every time you leave the villa there’s a strong chance I’ll never see you alive again. And yet I watch you go, and I don’t make a scene or ask you to stop. I have diligently learned to defend myself, knowing that danger will always follow both of us if we are together.” It didn’t pass Zevran’s notice that Nico had said _if_ and not _when_. “You need to decide what it is that you _truly_ want. I am willing to take on the risks of a life with you as my husband. Are you willing to do the same? Are you willing to share the same burden of daily fear that I’ve taken on without question?” Zevran tried to respond but Nico shook his head, fists clenched uselessly at his sides. “Don’t.” His voice was tight with suppressed anguish. “Don’t answer now. I want you to think about all of it, and decide what you can live with. Satinalia is in a few weeks. I think that by the end of the two-week festival you should be able to come to a decision. Until then, you’ll find me at my father’s house.”

Zevran watched helplessly as Nico turned and headed back to the villa. He felt like someone had punched him in the gut, and he wanted to run after him and tell him anything to make him stay. _It is not as if I do not want to marry you. I do! But I am not sure I can keep you safe._ He slowly pulled on his clothes and picked up the blanket, throwing it over his shoulder and headed home. The late afternoon breeze gusted across the blanket, carrying the smell of grass and sex, and the warm spice scent of Nico. It felt like a fist tightened around his heart. _What if they send their best assassin? Am I willing to risk this?_

 

**XXX**

 

When Zevran entered the house, Emilio greeted him at the door, taking the blanket but not indicating that he knew anything was amiss. He handed Zevran a small packet. “Master Zevran, this came for you earlier.” He looked at the stairs, knowing that Nico was probably already packing, and turned, heading for the study. _It is most likely the letter I have been expecting from Leliana, which will require immediate attention_. 

The wax seal broke with a soft snap and he quickly unfolded the note revealing Leliana’s precise script in her special cipher. He quickly decoded it and scanned the entire message before he leaned against the desk and read it again, this time with more care. There was a delicate matter in Antiva City that couldn’t be handled by anyone in her organization. They needed to appear neutral and uninvolved. She wanted him to go to Antiva City and deal with it. 

He rubbed his eyes and left the study, wearily climbing the stairs to the room he shared with Nico. _This day is definitely not ending as I had hoped._ He cautiously opened the bedroom door, unsure what would greet him on the other side. The bedroom looked as it had when they’d left that morning for their picnic in the grove, no sign of Nico anywhere. Zevran closed the door and walked across the room and out to the balcony. Nico was leaning against the railing, arms crossed, jaw clenched, staring at the deep greens and blues of the Amaranthine Ocean. Zevran stood in the doorway, unsure if moving any closer would agitate him further. He spoke cautiously. “I am glad you are still here, _amor._ ” Nico nodded, but didn’t turn to look at him. Zevran tried again. “ _Querido_ , I do not like when we fight. Especially when we will be apart.”

Nico nodded again, anger flaring at the casual way Zevran delivered the comment. “Yes. I’m aware that we never part angry. Because there is always the very real danger that one of us will not be returning.” He finally turned to look at Zevran. The hurt in Nico’s eyes cut deeper than any dagger could, and Zevran gasped as if it had been slipped between his ribs.

He sighed defeatedly. “And that someone is me. _Sí_.” He moved across the balcony to lean against the railing near him. He wanted to take him into his arms, touch him in some way, but forced himself to remain still, knowing that he would be rebuffed. “ _Amor_ , there is a job for me in Antiva City which could be the opportunity we have been waiting for.” When Nico gave no reaction, Zevran continued. “I know I have asked a lot of you. I know I _still_ ask a lot. You are tired of waiting. But please, _querido_ , will you wait just a little longer? Let me finally complete the pledge to Rinna that I made.” 

If he could take care of the two remaining Grandmasters, the threat would be neutralized, and then they could be together without fear. Claudio Valisti’s position within the Crows would be completely destroyed, leaving him vulnerable. The assassins and Grandmasters that Claudio had gathered into his own little cadre had taken years to groom and mentor, and would not be easily replaced.

Nico stared at him, barely-contained rage plainly visible on his face. “Because a pledge to her must come before a pledge to me.” He shook his head disgustedly. “You have until the end of Satinalia to set a wedding date. Our wedding must take place within the six months following Satinalia. There will be no postponement.” Zevran understood the unspoken “or else”.

He nodded. “Thank you, _querido_. It will be enough time.” _It will have to be._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note updated tags: cutting, self-abuse, alluding to torture
> 
> Mentions of all are brief but pretty much if you skip the short paragraph that starts with "He stared at the red wine dripping down the wall, so like blood." you'll miss all of it.

**Chapter 2**

Zevran arrived at the inn late at night, no more sure of a solution to his personal situation than when he’d left the estate in Bastion. Nico had set out for Antiva City two weeks earlier. Although they had parted with their usual affection, there had been a heaviness to the farewell that weighed on Zevran’s mind. His trip north had taken three days on horseback, and he’d tried to use the time to come up with an answer to the problem of Nico’s safety, should the Grandmasters prove troublesome to eliminate. But he’d come up with nothing useful. And that was the sticking point.

He trotted his horse through the inn yard, dismounted, and put the problem aside for the night, too tired to think about it clearly. After three days on the road, all he wanted was a warm fire and a comfortable bed. The stable boy ran out and took his horse’s reins, walking the bay into the stable. He threw his saddlebags over his shoulder and pulled his hood lower over his face before crossing the dirt yard and entering the inn. 

The bar room was bustling, and Zevran carefully picked his way through the clusters of small tables. Tthe place needed a new coat of paint, and the tables looked a bit more worn, but it was still clean and no one looked his way. The clientele here were of a sort that respected privacy and expected it in return. He moved to the bar where his room key was waiting with a bottle of Antivan Red. He nodded to the old barkeep and headed through the archway towards the rear of the inn and his old room, tucked behind the back stairs. The lock was rusting and infrequently used, and the key stuck mid-turn, but he knew the trick. He pressed down on the old metal key and wiggled it back and forth, grinning as he finally heard the click of the tumbler. He swung the door open and only made it a few steps into the room before his past assaulted him. 

He was suddenly surrounded by the teasing sound of Rinna’s laughter. He could see the mischievous sparkle in her vibrant eyes, her welcoming arms reaching for him. Zevran dropped his pack to the floor and gasped, trying to steady himself with a hand against the wall. _Rinna! Rinna, what have I done? I have let you down. I have failed you!_ _I have neglected my mission for too long!_

His knees hit the wooden floor and tried to catch his breath, but no matter where he looked, memories were triggered. He was overwhelmed by the waves of remorse at his role in her death, and guilt at his inaction on her behalf. _I will finish this mission, Rinna. I swear. We will have our revenge._

His nails bit into his palms, as he sought some way to regain control of himself, and the focus that he’d lost over the years. The self-loathing bubbled up in waves that threatened to drown him. _You are no Crow. You are weak and lazy. You are a shadow of your former self. You do not deserve the title._ He shoved himself to his feet and walked unsteadily to the small table in the corner. His hands shook as he uncorked the wine and took a swig directly from the bottle, wiping his mouth with the back of his free hand. The bitter, heavy liquid did nothing to ground his thoughts. Neither did the deep breath he took to center himself. The bare functionality of the furniture in the room, compared to the luxury he’d been living in for the last few years, was overwhelming. A wave of self-contempt raced through him. He hurled the wine bottle against the wall, smiling with grim satisfaction as it shattered and glass went flying. He was unconcerned with the noise. _Everyone here knows better than to investigate._

He stared at the red wine dripping down the wall, so like blood. So like _her_ blood. Like the blood of the thousands of recruits, who struggled through their journey into the Crows, only to fail. He walked back across the room and knelt in front of the broken glass, stared at it. He reached down and picked up a shard, judging its sharpness. As though he were watching someone else, he slowly dragged the jagged edge across his bicep, feeling the sharp sting as the glass sliced into his skin. He stared at the growing red line until he slipped into a meditative state, quieting his mind and clearing his thoughts. The Crows had taught him to use pain as a focusing tool, and one by one, he pushed all thoughts and memories unrelated to revenge out of his mind until everything left came into sharp focus. He took a deep breath and dropped the glass shard onto the floor, slowly standing. His legs were shaky from sitting on them for so long, but he stood, feeling centered, and welcomed the familiar single-mindedness of a mission.

With renewed clarity, he had begun to formulate a plan. _First, eliminate the spy for Leliana._ The Chantry would give him a safer location from which to operate within the city. The target had recently been reassigned to Antiva City, and was due to arrive any day, thanks to the machinations of Sister Nightingale. The cooperation of the head of the Antiva City Chantry, Mother Alicia, was assured, as she had no wish to find herself on the wrong side of his blades, as Benedetto had.

Once Leliana’s situation was resolved, he would turn his attention to the two remaining targets on his list. Grandmasters Runn and Availa would be the final victims in his quest to avenge Rinna. Unfortunately, Claudio Valisti would remain alive - he’d determined that there were too many political and personal strings attached to eliminate him. But finally neutralizing his internal network would destroy his personal empire. _Political and social death are worse than physical death to someone like Claudio._ Once finished, Rinna would be avenged, House Arainai would be destroyed, Claudio’s bid for the throne would be thwarted, and Nico would be safe. As safe as he could be. He set to work on the details and preparations.

**XXX**

Zevran quietly slipped through the same door that he’d used years before. He was careful to keep his tread light as he made his way across the nave, slipping soundlessly through the hallway that lead to the Chantry living quarters. It was just past midnight and his target had arrived half an hour before. Mother Alicia had been the only person awake to greet her. With everyone else asleep, Zevran wandered through the Chantry with little worry of being stopped. He heard quiet voices to his left and carefully peered into the open doorway.

Mother Alicia’s back was towards him. She was speaking to the new arrival, covering the daily routine of the Antivan Chantry, and what would be expected of her over the next few days. Zevran edged his way into the room and quietly shut the door. _Mother Alicia: Left handed. Age: 30-40. No weapons. An unlikely threat._ He turned his attention to the other person in the room. _Female Target: Right handed. 25-30. Cocky. Possibly wearing weapons, likely daggers. Minor threat._ “Good evening, ladies. It is a pleasure.” He leaned against the door and drew his knives.

Both women turned to face him, and Mother Alicia frowned, glancing at the daggers and then back at Zevran. He inclined his head in her direction and flashed a smile at her. “Mother Alicia.”

She gave him a withering look. “I’m sorry. Have we met before?”

Zevran pushed off the door, keeping both in his line of vision. He was impressed with her calm demeanor. “Indirectly. Allow me to properly introduce myself. I am Zevran, previously of House Arainai, of the Antivan Crows.” He made a small bow.

Mother Alicia frowned more deeply. “I had heard that you were dead.”

“To my own great relief, and the disappointment of quite a few, thankfully this is not the case. Though for the moment, it suits me to let the rumor remain uncontested.” He turned his attention to the other female in the room. He executed a sweeping bow which would have been the envy of many an Orlesian courtier. “Good evening, Sister.” 

She inclined her head in acknowledgement, and cocked an eyebrow. “Which of us has gained the notice of a _former_ Antivan Crow?” 

Zevran sighed. “Does anyone ever really leave the Crows? It is more a matter of leaving House Arainai.” He winked and leaned in conspiratorially. “I am planning a bit of… a reorganization.”

Mother Alicia snorted derisively. “Reorganizations don’t happen within the Brotherhood. Any attempt would only result in someone actually killing you.” She dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand. “How is it that you know me? I’m certain we’ve never met.”

“I was privy to a conversation you had with a former member of House Arainai. Unfortunately for him, he met with a deadly accident just after your meeting.” Zevran could tell the moment she put the first pieces of the puzzle together.

“That was you, when Benedetto Arainai was assassinated here in this Chantry.” He watched her reaching for other memories as if they were tangible objects, sifting through the tumbled mess until she called up the right pieces. “Eamon _Arainai_ died a few years before that. And in between, several others from House Arainai were assassinated.” She gave him a patronizing look. “Is multiple murder your method of _reorganization_?”

“Murder has ever been the Crow way, Mother. But perhaps we can discuss the specifics later. Right now I would like to further acquaint myself with your newest Chantry member.” He turned back to the other woman and smiled expectantly.

She met his eyes boldly, and gave him a challenging look. “What would you like to know?”

“Perhaps we can start with your name. I find it so much easier to discuss business after introductions are made.” This was a bold-faced lie, and he could tell Mother Alicia knew it. It was more practical to know as little information as possible about your target. They were less likely to be seen as a person, increasing the odds of a successful mission. 

She nodded, perhaps aware of that fact as well, giving more information than necessary. “I am Sister Rejeanne, formerly chief librarian at the University of Orlais.” Her hands twitched nervously and she clasped them in front of her to control them. 

Zevran nodded. “Orlais is so… Orlesian, is it not?” He twirled a dagger in his hand. “From your accent I would say you are from Val Royeaux, but not originally. You have been there for many years though. Why do you now find yourself banished to Antiva? Have you displeased someone? Or did you request the transfer to escape a bothersome situation?”

She kept watch as his blades whirled in his hands, visibly losing some of her confident air. Her eyes flicked to the door. _So, not a professional spy._ He could tell she was assessing him just as carefully, looking for signs he was planning to attack. _Do you think that I would really announce my intent accidentally?_ He gave her credit for control. Her voice remained steady, not betraying her obvious unease. “Why is this important?” She edged across the room, trying to maneuver between Zevran and the door.

“Purely my own curiosity getting the better of me.” He flashed a cheeky grin. “Shall I answer for you? I believe you were exiled here as punishment for a poor choice of allegiance, and to limit the damage you can do for your master, the Marquis of Serault.” He saw the flash of anger and fear in her eyes just before her hands moved from the folds of her skirt, candlelight glinting off the twin daggers gripped tightly in her fists. She dropped into a fighting crouch. 

Zevran addressed Mother Alicia without looking at her, waving a hand to the far corner of the room. “My dear Mother, please move over there for your own safety. I do not wish you to become injured by a stray blade. We have much to discuss after my business with Sister Rejeanne is concluded.” He assumed a ready stance, weight balanced on the balls of his feet, knees slightly bent. 

Mother Alicia leapt for the exit, and Zevran threw a warning dagger in her direction. He intentionally missed but was close enough to make the fabric of her cowl flutter. The blade buried itself in the wall, hilt quivering with the impact, and she gasped.

Zevran shook his head but his eyes never left Sister Rejeanne. “Mother, _carefully_ hand me the dagger. Do not touch the blade. I would hate for you to cut yourself.” He could feel the rage pouring from her as she yanked the blade from the wall and carefully placed it in his hand, hilt first. He waved her to the corner of the room and she reluctantly went as requested. Zevran turned his full attention to the adversary in front of him. “Sister Rejeanne, do you really think that drawing blades against me is a good idea?”

She snarled and lunged, aiming for his chest. Zevran sidestepped the attack easily, and sliced a clean line into her forearm. She gasped and dropped her knife, but sprung towards the door and wrenched it open as blood welled from the gash. She fled into the hall and Zevran made no move to follow. Instead he sheathed his blades and grinned exuberantly at Mother Alicia, counting to three out loud. There was an audible thud on the stones in the hall. As Mother Alicia moved to leave, Zevran pointed a dagger at her chest and stepped towards her. “If you are as smart as you think you are, you will stay there.” She blanched and backed away. 

He walked into the hall, and assessed the crumpled form of Sister Rejeanne. He stepped over her and sheathed one dagger, then checked her pulse, and grabbed her by the hair, dragging her back into the room. Without thought, he let go, allowing her head to crack against the stones, and turned back to Mother Alicia, giving Sister Rejeanne no further thought. He closed the door behind them and took a seat at the small table, gesturing with his remaining dagger for Mother Alicia to join him. She quietly moved to the chair opposite, unable to take her eyes from the prone body on the floor. “What’s wrong with her?” 

“Poison.” With great pride he added, “My own personal blend of hemlock and nightshade.” He waved in Sister Rejeanne’s direction. “Her twitching is a side effect of the nightshade. She will be with us for a few minutes more, until the hemlock takes full effect and paralyzes her lungs. Then the spasms will stop.” He shrugged. “It cannot be helped. But it would not do to have her yelling.”

Mother Alicia kept glancing at the dying woman on the floor and Zevran grew impatient. “Mother, please, if you would be so kind as to pay attention. We have matters to discuss.” He waited for her to look him in the eye. “Being a member of the Chantry grants unfettered access to many otherwise inaccessible areas of Thedosian society. I require this access. You will help me.”

She sat up a little straighter and gave him a scathing look. “I will not help you murder anyone.” Her gaze went back to the now still and glassy-eyed form of Sister Rejeanne. 

Zevran’s spirited laughter echoed off the walls. “No! No, of course not! My dear Mother Alicia, why would I ask you to kill anyone? You are not an assassin!” He leaned back in his chair. “No, _I_ will do the killing. _You_ will help to provide the cover when I assume the identity of Sister Rejeanne.”

Mother Alicia snorted and sneered. “How will you pass as one of us? And won’t you be recognized by your former associates?”

“It is true, I would immediately be recognized should any of them see me. Or hear me, for that matter. Luckily, I am incredibly smart and have an ingenious plan to deal with these issues. As of this moment, Sister Rejeanne is serving a self-imposed penance for offenses against the Divine, and Andraste. She will henceforth only be seen outside of these rooms with her head and face covered.” Zevran smiled, quite pleased with himself. “She has taken a vow of silence, will communicate only in writing. She prefers to work and eat alone as a reminder of her poor choice of friends in Orlais.”

“It seems that you have this all figured out. Why do you need me?” Mother Alicia put up a brave front but Zevran could see the facade crumbling. 

“You will be the facilitator. You will explain this story to any who need to hear, and cover for _Sister Rejeanne_ when needed.” Zevran found great satisfaction in the various emotions playing across Mother Alicia’s face. “When I need entry to certain areas where the Chantry can go, but I cannot, you will find a way to get me access.”

“And why should I do this?” She already knew the answer. He could see that clearly. But she needed to hear it aloud.

“I could say that I am asking in a spirit of cooperation stemming from our organizations’ shared origins. However, neither one of us is sentimental enough to think this would sway you.” Zevran placed the dagger on the table. “Perhaps you might find motivation on a more personal level. It would be all too easy for me to slit your wrists right here and watch the life bleed from your veins. Or perhaps I might opt for the less conspicuous, but ever popular poisoning of your food, when you least expect it.” He continued in a conversational tone. “There are so many fun poisons to choose from. My personal favorite is foxglove. It is fairly common and easy to come by. After ingesting, the victim appears to suffer an innocent heart attack. There are no indicators that would point to anything else.” He looked directly into Mother Alicia’s eyes. “Meaning that no one would be the wiser.” 

Zevran picked up the dagger and sheathed it, leaning back in his chair. “Give it some thought, Mother. I can wait. But not for long.” He sat quietly, very still, eyes never leaving hers.

Her shoulders slumped and she took a deep breath. “Since it seems I have no choice in the matter, I suppose I must agree to your terms.” 

She was scared and furious and Zevran offered her a token for her cooperation. “I will sweeten the deal for you, hmmm? Any assets I acquire while posing as Sister Rejeanne will be sent back here to the Antivan Chantry, for you to do with as you see fit. Feed some poor, line your own pockets, I do not need it, and care little what you would do with it.”

He watched her mentally struggle with the situation for several more minutes before she squared her shoulders and met his gaze. “Fine. Am I to assume that this arrangement begins now?”

“Yes. I will take care of that.” He waved a hand in the general direction of Sister Rejeanne’s corpse in the middle of the floor. “You should return to your chamber as if nothing was amiss. In the morning, when everyone else is going about their day, you will tell the story of Sister Rejeanne as I have outlined. I will come and go as Sister Rejeanne, as needed. When I require your assistance I will contact you.” Zevran stood and took Sister Rejeanne’s travel cloak from the bed and threw it over his arm before lifting her dead body from the floor. Mother Alicia opened the door and exited ahead of him, moving left down the hall, deeper into the Chantry living quarters. He quietly slipped out of the room heading to the right and into the Chantry, leaving through the side door, and disappearing into the early morning darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

 

Zevran spent the next three weeks watching Grandmaster Runn and Availa, learning their routines, and the names and faces of the people around them. He scouted out advantageous locations from which to attack. He tried to anticipate all likely opportunities and spent hours planning and replanning. As if to mock all of his efforts, fate presented him with an unexpected break. 

It was the third morning of Satinalia, and the market was bustling with vendors hawking their wares, and customers bartering for that last minute gift. In typical Antivan fashion, the crowds were already wild and raucous. Zevran sedately picked his way through the stalls, stepping over discarded wine bottles and around puddles of Maker only knew what, shouldering his way through the revelers. He would have preferred to avoid the throngs of people, but the shortest route to the Chantry was through the market. He needed to send a message to Leliana, and the safest place to do so was from there.

He slipped between two stands, heading for the next alley when he spotted a scout wearing the colors of House Availa. Zevran slowed his pace and held back, watching. _Human. Male. 18-20 years old. Low-level fighting skills. Right handed._

A minute later a cluster of men wearing the same house colors and bright Satinalia masks stumbled into the square, well into their cups, laughing and shoving each other. Their Crow bodyguards looked haggard, visibly trying to keep the group together and protected. It was difficult to tell exactly who the men were with their faces covered, but after three weeks of observing the Grandmasters, Zevran was certain that Availa was in the group. The presence of the guards confirmed it. The man at the very back was the right height and build, and held himself just a bit apart from the others, as though he were better, more important.

Zevran reached into the pouch at his waist and carefully withdrew a ring, slipping it onto the middle finger of his right hand. It was an ugly silver monstrosity, decorated with a cluster of intricately carved skulls. He had _acquired_ it from a mark he’d eliminated in Nevarra. Unaware of what it was, the ring had almost killed him. The pressure of prying it from the dead man’s hand had triggered the spring loaded latch, exposing a poison filled needle hidden beneath. It was now one of his prized possessions, and Zevran usually carried the ring with him on the hunt. There had been a few instances, such as now, where an opportunity presented itself and the ring had been the ideal weapon.

The bodyguards tried to steer the drunk men down the center of the street while still keeping them at the centre of their protective circle, but the crowd kept careening into them. Zevran used the distraction to get nearer, listening to their chatter, hoping to verify Availa was indeed in the group. Confirmation came as the mark in the back of the group started yelling curses as they were jostled yet again. Zevran maneuvered through the mass of people, hanging back just outside the rear bodyguard’s line of sight, waiting for an opportunity to strike. 

They were likely to leave the main thoroughfare at the next corner and head for the Availa compound, and Zevran would lose his ability to follow undetected. He needed to create a bigger diversion than a few rowdy revelers. He needed the crowd to swarm near them. He reached into the bag at his waist and took out a handful of coins, surreptitiously tossing them into the crowd nearest Availa, and smiled at the utter chaos that ensued. 

The bodyguards were unable to pay attention to so many pushing and shoving while they scrambled to contain the men they were protecting. Zevran allowed himself to be carried along by the crowd, who helpfully threw him into Availa. Zevran squeezed the trigger on the ring, flipping back the cover, and quickly stuck Availa in the hip with the needle. He helped him regain his balance and then slipped back into the churning mass of people, guards never the wiser. He walked away from the scene at a steady pace, even as he heard the yells of the guards calling for a healer. He pulled his cowl lower and turned down the next alley, feeling the rush of accomplishment. _One more to go, Rinna. Only one left._

XXX

Zevran returned to the inn later that evening, having made it to the Chantry and sent his update to Leliana. He kept her apprised of his progress in case he needed her assistance with the second part of his plan. As Zevran wandered through the taproom towards the back stairs, the barman slipped him a note. He nodded and pocketed it for later reading. 

When he got into his room he carefully removed the leather pouch from around his waist and set it on the table, gently taking the poison ring out and putting it aside. The ingredients to make a new batch of the toxin were in his pack, and he gathered the small vials, setting them on the table next to the ring. As he threw the Chantry cloak on the bed, the note fell from the pocket onto the floor. He reached for it, breaking the seal with a soft snap and sat on the edge of the bed, scanning it quickly. 

**Bello,**

**I swore to myself that I would not be the first to make contact. I was planning to wait for you to come to me. I was sure you would. And yet, we are quickly approaching the end of Satinalia and I have yet to hear from you. There hasn’t been any local gossip which would indicate that you’ve made any progress in your endeavor, either. I will admit that part of my mind has begun to worry that you have chosen to move on rather than tie yourself to me. This is breaking my heart, Bello. If you are not coming back, have mercy and tell me now.**

**_Tu querido, siempre_ **

He looked at the words in confusion. _What does this mean? Is it a coded message disguised as a love letter?_ He checked the envelope for some sort of key or indication of how to decipher the note. After two more readings he was still no closer to figuring out what it meant. Frustrated, he flung himself back on the bed, closing his eyes and tossed the note aside. And then he caught a scent. His eyes flew open and he grabbed for the letter, pressing it to his nose. It smelled of frankincense and sandalwood and he knew he recognized it. _I should know this scent. It is the key._ A feeling of dread wrapping itself around his heart like a fist, squeezing tighter and tighter until he thought he would die from the pain. 

He stood up and paced the room, letter crushed in his fist, eyes wildly scanning the room for any help. _Who sent this? Why am I so upset? What am I forgetting?_ He caught sight of himself in the mirror. Or more specifically, he caught the glint of light reflecting off of the gold hoop in his ear and the memories came flooding back. The sounds of the market. A gold hoop earring. A beautiful smile, and a rich deep laugh. Bright silver eyes staring at him. And then the face. _His_ face. _Nico’s_ face. He fell to his knees and dropped the note, hands shaking so badly he couldn’t hold the page any longer. “ _Querido_! Nico! Sweet Maker, what have I done? How could I have forgotten him so thoroughly? How?” He rocked himself back and forth, arms wrapped around his waist. His eyes darted around the room, looking everywhere as though the answer might be there. Then he spotted the letter and picked it up again, smoothing the page and rereading it one more time. His heart ached with the need to see him. His _querido_. 

He left the ring and the poisons where they were, completely consumed with getting to Nico as quickly as possible. He threw on the Chantry cloak and exited out the back of the inn, moving on foot. He kept to back alleys and side roads and hurried across the city, consumed with the need to see him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you reading this, thank you for joining me on my self-indulgent romp through Antiva! I'd love to hear what you think so leave a comment below, or come chat with me over on tumblr where I'm earlgreyer1 or on twitter @iamearlgreyer.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay on posting this latest chapter. Work has been total !!$&17!! this week and took up every waking moment of my life. But it's the weekend and work can go suck eggs. Anyway, here it is and I hope you enjoy it.

**Chapter 4**

He stood outside the gate and stared at the mansion, unsure if he should use the front door or climb the trellis to Nico’s room. When he thought about running into Stefano, and having to explain everything he opted for the latter. He easily picked the gate lock and silently moved along the path around the house, keeping to the shadows. Pushing back the arms of the cloak, he climbed the lattice easily, making it to the balcony only a few minutes after leaving the street. 

Nico was slouched low in his chair, staring at the wine swirling around in his glass. It was eerily similar to the night, so many years ago, when he’d also climbed to the balcony and watched him sit at that same table, waiting. Only now Nico looked worried and tired, and Zevran’s heart ached to see it. He slid over the balustrade and leaned against it, uncertain of his reception, and almost afraid to speak. “ _Querido_?”

The wineglass trembled slightly as Nico’s whole body tensed before he purposefully calmed himself and carefully place the glass on the table. Zevran held his breath and gripped the railing nervously as Nico stood and turned toward him. They stared at each other for what seemed like hours. _Perhaps surprising him was a bad idea_. He was calculating how quickly he could vault over the side of the balcony onto the patio below when Nico moved towards him, relief written on his face. “Bello.” 

Zevran released the breath he’d been holding, and stumbled towards him, hands held out in supplication. “ _Amor. Mi vida. Lo siento!_ ” Anything he might have said next was cut off as Nico crushed him against his chest, mouth devoured in a greedy kiss that he eagerly returned. It was rough, all teeth and tongues and hands. When it ended, their lips barely a hairs-breath apart, Zevran grabbed at the soft silk of Nico’s shirt, afraid to let him move too far. “I am sorry, _querido_. I am so very sorry that I made you worry, and that we fought before you left.” He searched Nico’s eyes, ached to know that he was believed, and worried that he wasn’t. “I love you, Nicolo. I never want you to think that I do not care, or do not want to marry you. Because I do. With all of my heart I want that. I want _you_.” Nico peppered little kisses across Zevran’s face and murmured, “I know, Bello. And I’m sorry we fought, too. I’m so happy you’re here. I thought I’d finally pushed too hard and scared you off.”

Zevran shook his head. “Never. Wanting to get married is not unreasonable. And I do have every intention of marrying you as soon as this mission is over.” Nico’s gentle kisses stopped, and his arms went slack as he took a step away, frowning. Zevran panicked and tightened his grip. “ _Querido_ , it is half finished already! There is only one more to go. I just need one more week, I swear.”

He watched the doubt in Nico’s eyes, the way his brow furrowed and his fingers flexed, afraid to touch, hesitant to believe. It hurt, but he knew it was deserved. Nico’s voice was painfully neutral. “Is this a recent development? There’s been no news about either Availa or Runn.”

“As recent as this very morning. Availa had a heart attack in the market.” He grinned up at him tentatively. “I am sure they are trying to keep it quiet until they can figure out what to do.” He relaxed his grip on Nico’s shirt, futilely trying to smooth out the wrinkles, and sighed. “But now comes the truly difficult part. Eliminating Runn will be almost impossible. There surely will be heightened security as a result. My only hope is to once again be able to take advantage of the chaotic Satinalia celebrations. When the fasting begins next week, Antiva City will return to its normal routines and I will have to wait, again. That will take far too long for either of our liking.” He carefully watched Nico’s face, nervously hoping that it would be enough.

The tension drained away, and Nico gently reached out to caress his cheek. He went weak with relief, leaning into him, and tilted his face up, lips slightly parted in silent invitation. Nico dipped his head down and whispered, “Then we take him out this week.” His mouth was soft, and sweet, and almost enough of a distraction to miss the implication. 

Zevran reluctantly pulled away, wanting nothing more than to lose himself in Nico’s kisses. “I do not want to put you in danger, _querido_. If anything happened to you, I would be devastated. And your father would kill me.”

“Then my father doesn’t need to know.” Nico’s mouth still hovered over his, tantalizingly close. “I have the perfect solution to your dilemma, Bello. Shall I tell you what it is?” He was taunting him, making it difficult to think about anything but kissing his lips again. “I can hand you your target more easily than anyone else.” 

Zevran’s body mercilessly reminded him just how long it had been since they’d been together. He was aching to touch and be touched. “And how do you propose to do that?” His voice was thick with desire. Nico’s broad chest felt good under the thin layer of silk, and he moaned softly as the chiseled muscles rippled beneath his hands. 

Nico grinned and pulled Zevran closer, nibbling softly along his neck. “There is a price for this information, Bello.”

His warm breath tickled, his beard rough against his skin, and Zevran groaned wantonly, pressing closer. All he could think about was how good it would feel to be beneath him again, hips rolling in pleasure, his body filled and stretched. _If you wish to exchange sexual favors for information, I am more than willing to trade, mi amor._ “Name your price, and I will give it to you.” 

Nico chuckled. “The price is taking me with you. When you execute your plan, I want to be a part of it. I want to be there to watch your back.”

Zevran pulled back with a start. That wasn’t what he’d expected to hear. To cover his surprise he grinned naughtily and turned in his arms, pressed back against him and slowly rolled his hips. “Are you sure it is not another part of my anatomy that you wish to watch?” 

He squawked as Nico grabbed a handful of his ass. “It _is_ gorgeous, and I will always happily ogle any part of you.” Zevran turned around and once again pressed against Nico’s chest. Nico leaned down and captured his lips in an all-consuming kiss, slowly moving along his jaw and scorching his way down the length of his neck. Zevran struggled to pull his thoughts together and reiterate his concerns, but his voice was low and throaty. “ _Querido_ , I would be concentrating on protecting you rather than eliminating Runn.” _As I am now finding it difficult to concentrate on this conversation, with your lips and hands so close._

He quietly gasped as Nico gently bit his neck and murmured against his skin, “I’m telling you that I have a guaranteed way to get you in the same room as Runn. Are you truly willing to pass that up over a silly thing like worrying for my safety?” His voice was soft and deep and just as hypnotic as ever. “You have spent the past five years training me for this, Bello.” Nico’s hand teasingly dipped into the waistband of his pants. “Don’t you even want to hear my solution?”

Zevran absently wondered when Nico had become the seducer, and he the seduced. But he was practically swooning as he slowly unbuttoned Nico’s silk shirt, placing a soft kiss against every inch of newly exposed skin. He fervently hoped that Nico would slide his hand lower soon. “Fine. Tell me your plan. But I make no promises.” He looked up at Nico through his lashes, silently willing him to touch more of his body. 

Nico groaned. “Alright, I’ll tell you, but it’s very distracting when you look at me that way.” 

Zevran sighed as Nico’s hand finally slid low enough to brush against the tip of his cock, and his hips surged forward. “As it is when you try to kiss me into submission.”

“Fair point.” Nico pulled him closer. “I have an invitation to a Satinalia celebration at the Runn compound.” Zevran softly kissed his way across Nico’s chest, concentrating on the words being said. “Father and I receive one every year but we never go.” Zevran closed his eyes and slowly thrust against Nico’s hand. “The invitation has always been a courtesy extended because of our relationship to Claudio. I could accept this year, and sneak you in, help you to eliminate him.”

Through his lust-tinged brain Zevran found himself approving. The plan had merit and was better than anything he’d thought of so far. _Although the security will be be intense._ He gasped then moaned as Nico’s hand finally wrapped around his cock. He leaned against him, and struggled to stay focused. “How do you propose to smuggle me past the guards?” _I cannot just waltz up to the door on your arm._ In a stray moment of clarity he realized that wasn’t true. _Sister Rejeanne could._ “Though.. I may have a plan.” _I will think about it when I am less distracted. But now I am done discussing assassinations, and waiting for you to take me to bed._ He slid his fingers into Nico’s dark curls and pulled him into a heated kiss, rocking his hips forward into his fist. Breathlessly Zevran teased him, “You could try to convince me in other ways, _querido_.” 

Zevran was losing himself to the urges of his body, when quite unexpectedly, Nico pulled his hand back. Zevran whined with the loss of contact, then gasped as Nico’s strong hands gripped the back of his legs, and lifted him off the ground. Zevran quickly wrapped around him and wiggled teasingly. “This is a marvelous start, _querido_. I approve.” 

XXX

Nico effortlessly carried him into his room and tossed him into the center of the bed, slowly crawling after him. “These past four weeks have been very lonely without you, Bello. I’ve missed you.” 

Relief washed through him and he smiled seductively to try to mask it. _He still wants me. I have not lost him._ “I am not surprised, _querido_. I _am_ ridiculously awesome.” He reached up and slid his fingers into Nico’s soft curls. “But for the sake of my curiosity, what specifically have you missed?” 

“Well…” Nico ran a finger along the vein in Zevran’s neck, eyes roaming over him in an intimate caress. “I missed that little moan you make.” Zevran scoffed dramatically. “What moan? I do not moan.” He playfully shoved Nico’s shoulder and rolled his eyes. Nico hovered over him predatorily, and Zevran shivered in anticipation, his heart thumped in his chest and the warm flush of desire pooled in his belly. 

“Oh, but you _do_ moan, Bello. Here, let me show you.” There was a mischievous twinkle in his silver eyes, and Zevran held his breath as Nico’s beautiful mouth drifted closer, his soft lips brushing against his neck. Zevran breathed deeply, and tilted his head, wanting more of the gentle open-mouthed kisses that were making his body warm and eager. He gasped and his eyes flew open as Nico’s teeth teased at his skin. 

His whole body trembling with pleasure at the abrupt change in sensation. He was lost to everything but the pull of Nico’s mouth, and the growing ache between his legs. His back arched slightly off the bed, and a low, needy moan slipped from between his lips. Suddenly Nico’s mouth was gone. Zevran’s eyes flew open and he whimpered softly. _Querido, please stop teasing me like this._ Nico was watching him with a look of lust and amusement. “ _That_ moan.” It was completely unexpected and it took Zevran several moments to pull his thoughts together. When he finally spoke there was a hint of grudging respect to his voice. “Your seduction skills are quite impressive, _querido_. Well done.” His body ached for more, butZevran very deliberately took a few breaths and collected his wits. _You are not the only one with bedroom talents, querido_. He brushed his fingertips along Nico’s shoulders and down his arms, smirking as a small shiver rippled through him. “Do you know what _I_ have missed, _amor_?” He placed small kisses across Nico’s chest, the warm, spicy smell of sandalwood and frankincense very distracting. “Your soft gasps.” Just thinking about them was making him harder. _I want you so much, querido. I ache for you._

As if sensing his need, Nico leaned down and kissed him tenderly, lips gentle, tongues sliding together until they were both breathless with desire. Nico murmured softly against his lips, “I don’t recall these gasps. Perhaps you can refresh my memory.”

Zevran called on his years of training, needing every ounce of focus to control his lust and refrain from hauling Nico against his body and indulging his aching desire for him. “Oh yes, _amor_ , I will happily do that.” He moved his hands along Nico’s beautifully sculpted body, paying special attention to his nipples, gently rolling them between his fingers and thumbs. Nico’s deep moan rumbled through his chest. Zevran took a deep breath to once again slow his body’s eager response, and squeezed harder, twisting the already taut flesh, and pulling gently. Nico’s eyes widened and he inhaled sharply, desire tinting his cheeks a luscious pink, as his eyes darkened to the color of storm clouds. Zevran was just as captivated as if it were the first time. “There it is. So brief, but so arousing.” Nico’s hips rolled against him and Zevran grinned victoriously. “Do you want me, _amor_?” It was said playfully, but they both knew what they wanted, and where it would end _._

Zevran slid his hands along Nico’s muscles, fingers dipping beneath the edge of his pants to caress his warm skin. He continued to tease while Nico sent him a pleading look. “Is there something you want, Nicolo? Something I can do for you?” Nico whimpered softly and suddenly Zevran wasn’t in the mood to tease anymore. _Not after so long apart._ He opened the front of Nico’s pants, slipped his hand under the fabric, and palmed his already stiff cock. The warm, heavy weight of him was familiar and comforting. “I want you, _amor_. I want to make you feel incredible. I want to please you, show you how much I have missed you, how much I love you.”

Nico’s mouth latched onto his in a passion-fueled kiss. Zevran arched up against him and moaned into his mouth, biting gently at his lips and flicking their tongues together. He felt Nico’s hands frantically work at opening his pants before yanking them over his hips. Zevran kicked them off the rest of the way as they both scrambled to remove Nico’s. He had to duck to avoid a stray elbow and huffed out a chuckle before being pushed back onto the bed. Nico threw a leg over his and slid a hand down his body, until it settled on his cock, stroking him slowly and firmly. 

Zevran gasped and spread his legs encouragingly as Nico teased him with his fingers. He panted against Nico’s mouth, clinging to him desperately, hands pressed firmly into his neck and back. “Braska! That feels incredible. I missed you, _querido_. I missed _us_.” Nico growled deeply in the back of his throat and pressed a finger into him. Zevran gasped and then quickly moaned encouragingly. “Yes, _mi amor_ , just like that.” He panted out little breaths with each stroke of Nico’s hand. “You are so beautiful. I missed you too, Bello. I missed you in our bed.” Zevran caressed Nico’s hip, slid his hand lower, and wrapped his fist firmly around his cock, stroking with purpose. There was very little finesse, and definitely no more teasing. They weren’t trying to impress each other or draw things out. It was their welcome home. An _I missed you_. It was all emotion and a visceral needfor release after so long apart. Nico slowly let his fingers slip from him and murmured, “I _want_ you, Bello. I want to press myself into you and feel your body squeeze me tightly.” Zevran quickly wrapped his legs around Nico’s waist, pulling him closer, cock jutting out proudly between them. Nico devoured him with his eyes and rubbed the tip of his own cock against his tight pucker.

Zevran hummed his agreement. “It has been a long time. Longer than I ever remember. Who knew I had such self-restraint?” He smiled as he caressed Nico’s chest and gave him a flirtatious look. “I do hope that you have something to ease the way, _amor_. I’m not sure I am quite up to doing without, after such an absence.”

Nico swore and dove for the bedside table, frantically fumbling in the drawer for the slick, and Zevran wasn’t sure if he should laugh or cry with frustration as time dragged on. After a bit of a mad scramble Nico sighed in relief, waving a small pot in his direction and mumbled a quick, “Thank the Maker.” Nico uncorked the jar, dipped his fingers in and hastily stroked himself. 

Zevran watched through half lidded eyes as he lazily palmed himself. He reached up with his other hand and cupped Nico’s cheek. “ _Te amo, querido. Con todo mi corazón._ ” His voice warm and full of emotion. 

Nico leaned down, kissed him softly, and Zevran closed his eyes, moaning shamelessly as Nico slowly pressed into him. He took deep breaths and relaxed his body, coaxing Nico deeper with each slow stroke until their bodies were flush. They whispered sweet words of love and need as they gently rocked together, giving comfort and pleasure after so long apart. 

He murmured, “ _Amor_ , please. Please. Faster. I need you.” 

Nico growled low in his throat and increased the pace, thrusting into him, forcing loud shouts and moans from his lips. “ _Amor, amor, Braska! Mas por favor! Te quiero_.”

He closed his eyes and heard Nico moan and felt his hips snapping against his body. “My Bello. I love you. I missed you.” Zevran was beyond words, everything becoming sensation as he rushed towards his release. He felt the tightening of his balls as his body responded to Nico’s powerful thrusts. He writhed and whimpered, needing more of everything, only able to manage shallow breaths as his body soared higher and higher. 

Nico thrust deeply into him and Zevran teetered on the edge, almost there, waiting, needing more, then suddenly everything shattered into a million tiny pieces as his body trembled with the intensity of his orgasm, come shooting across his chest with each thrust of Nico’s hips. 

“Bello, Bello, Bello.” Nico gasped over him as his hips lost their rhythm, and his body shuddered through his own climax, his choked off moans filling the room. 

Zevran felt like he was floating and gently stroked his fingertips along Nico’s back as his hips slowly came to a stop. Nico hovered over him, struggling to breathe, eyes closed, as they tried to get control over themselves. Zevran slowly opened his eyes, smiled exhaustedly, and reached up to gently wiped the sweat from Nico’s brow. 

Nico pushing himself sideways and collapsing next to Zevran, tiredly reaching for him and resting a hand on his thigh. Zevran covered his hand with his own briefly before rolling onto his side and nestling in the crook of his shoulder. “I have missed _that_ too.” Nico’s deep laughter filled the room and Zevran felt a rush of happiness. He pressed closer and slid his fingers through the soft hair on Nico’s chest. He had to close his eyes, a bit overwhelmed by his emotions. _I almost lost this. I almost lost myself._

“Bello, is everything alright?” Nico’s gentle fingers worked through his hair and massaged his scalp. Zevran sighed and pressed closer.

_What do I tell him? How much do I tell him?_ He weighed his answer, and Nico remained quiet, letting him think without pressure. “When I first arrived in Antiva City I was overwhelmed with guilt. I felt I had neglected my cause, _Rinna’s_ cause. I was determined to make up for lost time. To focus solely on my goal. To forget about anything else.” He took a breath and concentrated on the secure feeling of Nico’s arms. “I buried all thoughts of you and us. There was _nothing_ but my mission.” He pressed his face into Nico’s shoulder and shuddered. “I almost lost myself to the old life.” 

Neither said anything for several minutes and he used the time to carefully choose what he would say next. “Your letter saved me, _amor_. It brought me back. Reminded me of what I have _now_. What I do not want to lose.” He slowly caressed Nico’s chest, keeping his touch light, hoping to soothe away the dark words. “I do not like who I was before. Without you I am a cold, angry man, without conscience or moral compass. I do not want that life anymore. I want to be the person I see when I look into your eyes.”

Nico’s arms tightened around him and they laid in silence again, long enough that he wondered if perhaps Nico had fallen asleep. He turned his face to look at him and saw tears on Nico’s cheeks. _What have I done?_ “ _Querido_! _Mi amor_. What is it? Have I said something wrong?”

Nico shook his head. “You couldn’t have said anything more right, Bello. I have to admit that I was worried that I had lost you, first when I pressured you to set a date, and then when I didn’t hear from you for so long. I _thought_ maybe the old life had seduced you, pulled you back. Or I had pushed you there.”

_He deserves better than that._ Zevran made a quick decision and raised himself up onto his elbows. He met Nico’s gaze and asked hopefully, “ _Mi amor, mi vida_ , how about spring?” Nico looked at him, so unsure, yet so hopeful, and it made his heart ache. “Spring for what?” Nico’s voice was shaky and his brows pulled low. 

“Marry me in the Spring, _querido_. How about Drakonis? Everything should be in bloom then. The gardens will be lovely. Or we could get married in the vineyard back home. Whatever you want.”

Nico smiled shyly, his eyes crinkled at the corners, and Zevran thought it was the most adorable thing he’d ever seen. “I’d like that. Yes. Drakonis.” He ran his hands along Zevran’s arms, unable to keep the grin from his face. “Antiva City would be nice. My father would like that.” “Then here it is. In Drakonis.” He leaned down to kiss him softly. “Whatever you want.” And he meant it. 

“I want to be with you. Forever. That’s what I want. I don’t know what your plan is after Runn is gone, but I’d like to help you accomplish it. I want to support you however I can.”

Zevran caressed his cheek. “You are a treasure. The Maker must have been smiling on me the day we met.”

Nico hugged him tightly to his chest, then tucked him against his side, softly stroking his arm with his fingertips. “Do you _have_ any plans? For after?”

Zevran sighed, hoping that what he said next wouldn’t ruin everything. “I want to remake The Brotherhood. Rebuild it, but with some changes. I cannot just tear it down. To dismantle everything would leave a hole in the political structure of Antiva and make us vulnerable to invasion from any of our neighbors. I do not think we need to dangle such temptation in front of Tevinter or Par Vollen. Do you?” 

Nico shook his head and kissed his temple. “And what changes would you make?”

His answer was swift and vehement. “No more buying orphaned or enslaved children! No more children at all!” He took a breath and tried to calm himself, but his voice was tight and his body tense. “The poor wretches are forced to live together in cramped conditions. Their training is brutal. The only way any survive and prove valuable enough to keep, is by passing every test thrown at them. _Every_ test, including killing their peers. There are no second chances.” 

He took a deep breath and continued more calmly. “Did you know that the Crows originated within the Chantry? It started with a sect of Chantry monks defending the poor from a tyrannical Duke. I am sure that monks would not condone the torture of children. And you are a prime example of what can be accomplished with adults who have a natural talent and a desire to learn. So, we take recruits who want to be there, perhaps as young adults, and we train them hard, every day. It would be more like an army of assassins, rather than a clandestine organization working outside of the government, for the highest bidder.”

He glanced up at Nico and smiled softly. “I would also change the rules regarding relationships. Everyone should be free to love whomever they choose, in or out of the Brotherhood. I think if we altered the guidelines, added something detailing what the Crows would or would not do in cases of kidnapped family members, we could get around the issue altogether.”

Nico squeezed him quickly. “Those are big changes, Bello. Are you so sure they will allow you to live, let alone take over?” 

Zevran could hear the worry in his voice and nodded against him. “Yes. I have achieved multiple high ranking kills. This will earn me vast amounts of prestige within the organization. I will have eliminated all who would stand against me, excluding Claudio, but he will have no supporters within the Crows, and will be much less of a threat. I will elevate House Cardoso and appoint Elanil as first Talon. I will make myself Guildmaster and the Houses will all report to me.” He pushed up on his elbows. “Will you help me, _querido_? Will you advise me? Watch over our business ventures? Help me train the new recruits?”

He watched the surprised look on Nico’s face turn to happiness. “Yes, Bello. We will do this together.” He pulled Zevran down and kissed him softly, the smile still on his lips. “You know, that means we should probably move back here to Antiva City. We could live here with my father. Visit Bastion for holidays.”

Zevran laughed. “First things first. We must take out Runn and implement the reorganization.” He kissed him again, glad to have told him his ideas, and moreso to have his blessing. “Then we can make our plans.” He crawled over Nico and straddled him, wiggling his hips. “Right now, however, I think that I would like to hear you gasp a few more times.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Change comes to the crows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no new tag updates but if I miss any please let me know and I'll quickly add them.

**Chapter 5**

The carriage stopped and Nico pulled the blind aside. The evening breeze blew stray curls across his forehead and he absently brushed them away as he peeked out. “We’ve arrived.” Zevran nodded and leaned across the bench and kissed Nico softly. “Be safe. Good luck. I love you.” 

He could tell that a grin was bubbling just beneath the surface of Nico’s calm façade. “I love you too, Bello. This is very exciting.” 

“Let us hope it does not become exceptionally exciting.” He was still not sure about having Nico along, but as was pointed out so often, they had been training him for this for years. Zevran had to trust that he could handle himself. “We get in, we take advantage of the first opportunity to eliminate Runn, and we take control. Elanil and her cadre should be in position, and will support us once the true excitement begins.” They kissed again quickly as Zevran pulled up the hood of his Chantry cloak and nodded that he was ready. Nico exited the carriage first and turned, offering his assistance. Zevran gathered the robes into one hand, struggling to hold the voluminous fabric in place, and took his extended hand, glad of the help. Quietly, so only Nico could hear, he whispered, “Kaffas! These Chantry robes are impossibly cumbersome.” 

The slight squeeze of his hand was the only acknowledgement Nico gave that he’d heard. He carefully rearranged his clothing, pulled the hood further down his face and breathed, pulling on the persona of serene Chantry sister Rejeanne as easily as he pulled on his shirt. Nico offered his arm and Zevran took it, letting him lead the way.

They approached the grand marble steps that lead to a wide front patio and an equally impressive set of wooden front doors. They were thrown wide, and four men in livery greeted the guests. To the trained eye it was obvious that they were Crows from House Runn. Each was tactfully checking for weapons, and Zevran felt Nico tense beside him. He gently squeezed his arm reassuringly. They had planned for this. Nico was weaponless, but Zevran was loaded down under his robes. As long as Sister Rejeanne was given the respect typically shown to the Chantry, then there shouldn’t be any issues.

They approached two of the guards and Zevran held back, allowing Nico to be patted down first. Once he was deemed weapon-free he held out his hand to Zevran and moved to enter the house. The second guard intervened. “Sister! Excuse me. But we must verify that all guests have no weapons.” The guard reached out for the edge of his Chantry robe and Zevran feared that he might have to storm the front door, when a deep voice echoed from the entryway. 

“Basil, please do not harass our distinguished guest! It isn’t often that we are graced with a visit from a Chantry sister.” Zevran watched as the man approached. He kept his body relaxed but ready to move if needed. “Nico! I was happy to see that you finally accepted our invitation! It’s a shame that your uncle Claudio couldn’t be here, but at least the Valistis have one representative present.” The man was average height, but loaded with muscle. It was a body type not typically seen in the Crows. Bulk muscle tended to slow reflexes. Lean, wiry frames were typically faster and the stockier builds usually didn’t survive the training. He made a mental note not to underestimate this man. Strong _and_ fast was a dangerous combination.

“Tito. Thank _you_ for the invitation. I am happy that this year I was able to fit your gathering into my schedule.” They shook hands and Zevran could tell there was a bit of a strength contest going on. He smiled and watched the muscular man frown slightly in pain. _Do not think you will best my Nico. He is full of surprises._ The stranger was the first to let go and Nico turned slightly away. “Tito Runn, may I present Sister Rejeanne, who is newly arrived from Orlais. She has been appointed to the Antivan Chantry. Sister Rejeanne, this is Tito, Third Talon, of House Runn.”

Zevran made a perfunctory bow, but kept his hands tucked firmly in the sleeves of his robe.

“Sister Rejeanne, you do us a great honor by joining our festivities. To have a member of the Chantry present to bless our gathering will surely bring us good fortune in the coming year.” Zevran bowed again.

Nico’s smooth voice filled the awkward silence. “Sister Rejeanne has taken a vow of silence. She usually remains within the confines of the Chantry, but Mother Alicia was unable to attend and asked that sister come in her place.”

“Ahhhhh. Well, I do hope that you enjoy yourselves, and if there is anything you need please just ask. Any one of our staff can assist you.” 

Tito ushered them past the guards and they wasted no time moving further into the grounds. They calmly strolled through the breezeway into the gardens, and Nico nodded to other guests as they passed, loudly pontificating about the statuary and local gardening techniques which might entertain someone who was unfamiliar with Antiva. All the while Zevran surreptitiously passed daggers and knives to Nico. He grinned broadly, thinking about the first day they had practiced secreting weapons. Nico had been enthralled and appalled all at once. He wasn’t sure if it was due to the sheer number of weapons that he’d had hidden, or where they had been kept. Now, he was hiding them just as effortlessly, in inconspicuous spots on his body, until he had seven weapons tucked away. They moved toward the banquet area hoping to find Runn among the guests. 

“I wish I had attended prior festivities. Then we might have some idea of what was typical for the event and what was heightened security.”

“We will figure it out. Just watch and listen to the crowd.” They milled through the guests, eavesdropping on conversations, grasping at snippets of information. Nico maneuvered them to a less busy corner of the grounds. He positioned himself against a wall and had Zevran facing him so that they could converse quietly, while watching for anyone approaching. “It would seem that keeping everyone outside is new this year. Prior years had both the house and the grounds open to guests.”

“And Runn is normally mingling with everyone. Some years he’d even greet guests at the front doors. This year his Talon greets everyone.” He grinned and looked into the dark recesses of Zevran’s hood. “You have them running scared, Bello.”

Zevran chuckled. “Their precautions will not help them.” He scanned the building and caught a flash of movement from an upper window. “There. To your left. Second story, fifth window over.” Nico took a sip of the drink he’d plucked from the banquet table and began coughing to mask his real goal. He set the glass down as he continued to cough and look around. Zevran made conciliatory gestures feigning help, and maneuvered them in the direction of the window. Nico tilted his head up and caught sight of the tall man standing in the window watching the activity in the garden. 

Nico appeared to get himself under control and picked up his glass, taking another sip. “Runn?”

“Runn. Now to find a way in.” Zevran debated the merits of losing the robe once they were inside and decided to play it by ear. He scanned the first level of the house and then turned to face Nico. “There are three entrances. The one directly past my right shoulder appears to lead into a study. If I had a house such as this, and if I spent a lot of time in my study, which I would, then I am guessing that there are a set of stairs nearby to take me to my rooms which would be directly above. Exactly where our target seems to be standing.”

Nico looked up at the window again. “He’s no longer there.”

“Then we should move quickly.” Zevran pulled the hood lower around his face and he and Nico strolled around the perimeter of the garden. There were still several guests walking along the paths so they were not out of place. They strolled slowly enough not to draw attention to themselves or their destination. Zevran hoped they were moving fast enough to find his target still in his rooms. 

They made it to the study doors without being stopped, and Zevran tried the handle. As he expected, the door was locked. He reached into his sleeve for his lockpicks and with Nico’s body blocking him from view, had the door open in moments. They slipped inside quickly, careful to close the door completely behind them before darting across the study and peering into the hall. As predicted, there were a set of narrow stairs, most likely for servants use. Zevran took a breath, centering himself, focusing on Runn just upstairs, pushing every other thought aside. _Do not let emotions cloud your focus. Mind on the target. Focus on the task._

He crept out of the study, Nico close behind him. The didn’t encounter anyone and Zevran jerked his head towards the stairs. They hurried across the hall and were halfway to the next level when there was shouting from below. Nico spun around, knives drawn, grinning like a maniac. Zevran quickly shucked his robes and sprinted up the remaining stairs, two at a time. _Nico can take care of himself. Get Runn. Don’t lose focus!_ Luck was not with them, and another Crow peered over the railing, spotting him immediately. “Intruders! Defend Master Runn!” Zevran unsheathed his knives and dashed up the remaining stairs, meeting his opponent at the top just as her booted foot swung for his head. Zevran quickly flipped the knives in his grip so the blades were pointed towards her and blocked her leg with his forearms. He tightened his grip on the knives at impact, and used her momentum to swing her towards the window overlooking the outer courtyard. He moved with her, adding his weight to her forward motion, which sent her smashing through the plate glass with a satisfying crash. Her loud shriek echoed through the courtyard. _That should be enough of a signal for Elanil. But just in case..._ He hurled a lantern through the window and into the middle of the street. It landed with a loud crash and the oil pooled and immediately ignited into a large pillar of flame and smoke. _Surely enough of a signal, now._

Nico had dispatched his opponent and was bounding up the stairs when a set of assassins came running around the corner. Grin still firmly on his face, Nico winked at Zevran and stole a kiss as he darted past. “Go. Find Runn. I'll deal with these two.”

Zevran didn’t hesitate. He sped down the hall and flung himself into the room he’d seen from the garden, knives ready. Runn was standing behind a high backed chair, and as they stared at one another he watched recognition dawn. Zevran quickly glanced into every corner, looking for anyone else who might attack. Finding no one, he slowly walked further into the room and stopped midway to Runn. “Master Runn. So good to see you again. It has been _such_ a long time. How have you been?”

Runn looked like he’d swallowed his tongue. He shook his head and finally managed to mumble, “You’re dead. You’re supposed to be dead. A Fade spirit! That’s what you are!”

“Alas, for you, no. I am not dead, and I am not a Fade spirit. I am, however, going to kill you. And there will be no coming back from the dead for you.”

“I didn’t want to sign the contract! Claudio insisted! He’s the one you really want.” Runn was visibly sweating, his eyes darting to the corridor where increased fighting could be heard, along with eerie laughter that grated on nerves. “What is that? What is making a sound like that?”

Zevran caught a glimpse of Nico as he shot past the door, laughing loudly, and he grinned. “Oh that? That is my soon-to-be husband, toying with your little Crows.” _Why did I ever doubt you, querido?_ He moved to block Runn’s escape. 

“Please! I had nothing to do with it! I’m innocent!” Runn had tears in his eyes and shot out from behind the chair. Zevran raised his knives but Runn dropped to his knees. “Spare me! I beg for mercy! Please!”

Zevran smiled as a gentle peace settled in his breast. “How fitting that you should beg for mercy, as she did.” There was increased shouting and fighting coming from the hallway. Zevran saw Elanil fly past the doorway and he knew that things were well in hand if she’d made it this far into the compound.

“Gold! Power! Freedom! I’ll give you all of it! Just let me live!” Runn was franticly looking around the room, surely trying to find a weapon or a means of escape. 

“I have all of that now, Runn. And I will have something more valuable once you are dead.” _Peace of mind. Relief. Vengeance_. He slowly moved forward, and Runn followed him with his eyes. “I _should_ make this painful. Tease you with your own death. Make you beg until your voice is hoarse and you have no more tears to cry.” He sighed dramatically. “But I find that I do not have the patience for torture tonight.” 

Runn was a blubbering mess and Zevran could tell that he was too terrified to bolt. _Fool_. He walked around Runn, dragging the tip of his knife along the base of his neck, leaving a thin line of red in its wake. Runn’s body began to sway as the fast acting poison seeped into his veins. Zevran stood behind him and leaned in, whispering into his ear, “It will be so much more satisfying to watch as the reality of imminent death dawns in your eyes, as I hover over you and watch your life slowly drain away. Much more civilized. Do you not agree?” 

Runn only managed a whimper before Zevran dragged both knives along either side of his neck, slicing deep enough to be fatal but not instantaneously so. Runn tipped forward, his body crumpling in a pathetic heap. Zevran squatted beside him and patted his shoulder. “Things will be different now. I am going to break your House. House Runn will be lower than Cuchillos. No one will speak the name Arainai with anything but contempt. _All_ the Houses will report to me, and I will need no affiliation. I will have no house name. And no one will remember yours.” He watched the last of the life drain from his eyes and then he stood and walked into the hall to assess the status of the takeover.

Elanil rounded the corner, and he scanned for Nico. She jerked her head towards the hallway below them. Zevran could hear the sounds of fighting and hurried down the stairs, Elanil close on his heels. He skidded to a halt on the last step and caught his breath. Nico was crouched low, circling to his right, shoulders down, hands relaxed with knives drawn, eager grin on his face. He had his eyes focused on Tito Runn, who had several gashes along his arms and legs and a significant slice to his neck bled rapidly. He scanned Nico for injuries and saw only minor nicks and a split lip. _We are going to have to work on protecting your beautiful face, querido._

From a purely analytical perspective, the tactician in him was excited to watch the match. Nico was tall and pure lean muscle, where Tito was short and bulky. The differences in physique would necessitate the use of very different fighting techniques. It would make for an interesting contest of skills. But from an emotional standpoint he wanted the fight done, and Nico as far away from danger as possible. 

Then the pair was back in the thick of the fight, blades slashing and stabbing as they circled each other. Tito lunged forward, thrusting at Nico’s torso before quickly darting back out of his reach. It was obvious to Zevran that Nico was toying with him. He’d seen him fight in training so many times that his lack of hits was telling. He wasn’t trying to end the fight, he was trying to exhaust Tito by running him around the entry hall. Tito lunged in again and Nico batted his blade away, laughing and grinning. Zevran couldn’t help but smile as well. He was utterly captivated by the beauty and deadly skill of his lover and could feel his body responding to the primal display.

“Do we have time for this?” Elanil sounded disgusted.

Zevran didn’t spare her a look, eyes focused completely on Nico. “Yes. As a matter of fact, we do. This fight is important for a number of reasons, not the least of which is to show the audience exactly how skilled and deadly my beautiful Nico is. We could not ask for a better opportunity. After he defeats Tito no one will touch him. Everyone will be too afraid.” He grinned at the brilliance of the plan. _Mi amor, you deserve a special reward for this cunning idea._

They watched Nico cut Tito several more times, playing up his performance, grinning as his opponent bled from his many wounds. From the corner of his eye, Zevran observed the mix of Cardoso and Runn assassins hanging over the railings or standing on the stairs watching the outcome of the main event in the hall. Elanil had stationed Cardoso assassins throughout the crowd so no one could attack their people unexpectedly. He grinned, impressed with her intelligence and stealth.

Nico started to get to business. His audience had grown so large that there was hardly much room left in the entryway, Tito was bleeding from several deep cuts, and he was visibly gasping for air. Nico feinted left and lunged right and brought both knives down on either side of Tito’s neck, ramming them into his flesh until they were buried to their hilts.

The room was silent. Tito stopped where he was, eyes flicking up to briefly meet Nico’s in recognition of his defeat. Nico took a step back, and Tito crashed to the ground, blood pouring from his nose and mouth. Still, nobody moved. Except Zevran.

He walked to the center of the hall and stood slightly in front of Nico. “Brothers and sisters of the Crows. I am Zevran, the new Guildmaster of the Brotherhood. House Arainai no longer exists. Their Grandmasters are dead, and Aranai are now the lowest possible rank of Cuchillo. I elevate House Cardoso in their place, and appoint Elanil as First Talon. Support me in my claim and House Runn will keep its status. If you choose to do otherwise, you will die here and the House will be no more. Decide your fate now, and kneel if you would live.”

He saw respect in many eyes, and fear in a few others, but to their credit, every one of them was on a knee, knife extended in an offering of fealty, as Emilio had done so many years ago. “I accept your service.” He turned to Elanil. “Ensure that we have ended any remaining resistance and allow the party guests to leave peacefully.” To the rest of the room he ordered, “Return to the compound and await my arrival.” 

The crowd began to move away and in a few minutes only Elanil, Nico and Zevran remained. He smiled at Nico’s self-satisfied look while he scanned him quickly for injuries. He seemed to be mostly fine, with just a few nicks and cuts along his arms. Zevran turned his attention to Elanil. She looked unhurt, but surprised. “It would seem that House Runn was not as much of a threat as first surmised.” 

Nico grinned and Zevran could feel his eyes sweeping over him quickly. He took Nico’s hand and squeezed it briefly. “I am fine, _querido_. Not a scratch on me. Grandmaster Runn was such a disappointment. Do you know he blubbered for his life rather than fight?” Zevran nodded to Elanil. “Thank you for your timely intervention.” 

“Thank _you_ for the unique signal. There was no way that we could have missed a falling, screaming body.” She grinned impishly and they all laughed. “Thank you for the singular honor. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather place the title elsewhere?” She nodded towards Nico.

Zevran clapped a hand on her shoulder and squeezed slightly. “You have earned this by your exceptional service and skill. And I would honor House Cardoso as best I can.” He looked at Nico and grinned. “Besides, I have other plans for Nico.”

Elanil grinned and bowed then left them alone. Nico gathered Zevran in his arms and kissed him lingeringly. “Well, Bello, you did it. And you have made your decision to stay with the Crows.” Zevran relaxed into his arms, leaned against his strong chest, and looked in his eyes for any sign of disappointment. _What is it you would want me to do?_ He shook his head and grinned. _You would say, ‘do what you think you should do.’_ “I will rebuild them. I will make them better.” He felt a momentary rush of anxiety as he asked, “Will you help me?” Nico’s smile lit up the room and Zevran’s fear was gone. It was replaced by the familiar flutter in his belly. _Maker willing I will still feel that when we are both old and grey, mi amor._ “Come, let us head to the compound and share the news with the rest of the Crows.”

XXX

When Nico and Zevran arrived at the compound, things were in understandable disarray. There were several bodies dead on the ground, many of them not much past their teens, but fewer than he’d feared. “It is always the younger ones who either do not understand how the transition works, or try to take advantage of a perceived opportunity to further their own agenda. It is such a shame.”

They walked through the main building and into the offices where the high ranking members conducted daily business. As he passed each one, they knelt and offered him their dagger. Zevran took them, accepting the pledge of their Houses, and handed the weapons back, instructing each to follow him into a main meeting room. When everyone was present, Zevran addressed them. “Please sit.” He took the chair at the head of the table and looked at each of the leaders, stopping to give a small nod and smile to Alfonso Cardoso, seated at the front of the table nearest him. House Valisti was not represented. Zevran smirked. _Claudio knows better than to show his face now._

“Gentlemen, I am Guildmaster Zevran. As the Grandmasters and heads of your Houses, you are here to learn about the future of the Brotherhood. You may not agree with the direction that our organization is going, and if this is the case you are welcome to leave. I am sure you understand the ramifications of such action, though.” He met and held the gaze of each man in the room. He didn’t want any additional bloodshed over the changes he was making, but would not hesitate do so if needed. 

“I plan to steer the Crows back to the original intent of the Brotherhood. We will continue to be the primary defense for Antiva, protecting our borders from Tevinter and the Qunari, and anyone else who would dare attack us. We will take contracts that benefit the continued reign of those Antivan monarchs who would rule justly, and we will eliminate those who would oppress the Antivan people. We will take fewer contracts from sources outside our borders, only involving ourselves in affairs that have an impact on Antiva.” He waited to let the information sink in. “Any needed clarifications will come through my Consul, Nico Valisti.” He gestured towards his right where Nico stood just behind his chair.

“This brings me to the next set of changes. There will be no more buying of orphaned or enslaved children to bolster our ranks. Young people who show exceptional raw talent will be accepted into the Brotherhood, once they reach the age of maturity. Training will be rigorous and hard, but there will be no more torture training, or death matches. Nico is proof that talent and demanding training programs can produce amazing results.” There was a murmur through the room as those not at the Runn estate recounted the death-match between Tito Runn and Nico. Zevran grinned. He’d heard several of the Crows talking about Nico with awed voices. _You have gained a bit of a reputation my love. Hopefully it will keep you safe!_

“Relationships of a romantic nature will no longer be grounds for punishment or death. Those wishing to enter into such relationships will need to understand that the Brotherhood will not pay ransom to kidnappers, or send rescue missions for their families. However, if the Crow involved would like to undertake the mission on their own, they will be granted leave to do so.” There were a few positive reactions to this statement which made Zevran happy. But there were just as many frowns and grumbles.

“However, there will be an elite squad of volunteers who will learn special skills, train under the old rules, and refrain from emotional entanglements. These Crows will be used for the incredibly sensitive missions, especially those outside of Antiva.” He saw more nods and positive reactions to this statement. _Not everyone embraces change well._

“Before I dismiss this meeting I would like to introduce you to First Talon Elanil Cardoso.” He motioned to his left where Elanil was standing behind him. There was very little positive reaction, and he was disappointed to say the least. “Gentlemen. The Brotherhood has had very few female Grandmasters or Talons. This will change. By adding females to these positions we give ourselves a broader perspective, new ways of thinking and fresh ideas. If the Brotherhood is to survive the changes that are coming to Thedas we must adapt.”

He was physically exhausted - but more deeply tired of seeing frowns on the faces of the few men who disapproved of his plans. Zevran dismissed the Grandmasters and slumped in his chair once the door closed. “Not all of them support my ideas.”

“But you knew that would be the case when you decided to make these changes.” Nico leaned against the edge of the table and reached out to caress Zevran’s cheek. “The majority agreed wholeheartedly. I saw quite a few smiles and nods. You will probably have to make an example out of one or two, and possibly replace them, but you have at least half of them right now.”

Zevran sighed and closed his eyes. “I am glad you are helping me with this, _querido_. It would be very difficult to do this alone.” 

Elanil cleared her throat and approached the table. “You and Nico are not alone, Guildmaster. You have me, and all of House Cardoso, to the last member. We have your back.” 

He looked at the proud set of her shoulders and the conviction in her eyes and smiled, suddenly feeling less weary. “Thank you, Elanil. That means a lot. And it makes me feel less concerned.”

“So what’s next, Bello?” Nico took one of Zevran’s hands in his and stroked his thumb along the knuckles. 

Zevran sighed and rubbed his face with his free hand. “Send word to the King of Antiva letting him know about the changes. We also need to get word to the Inquisition, King Alistair, the Warden Commander, and the Chantry, via Sister Alicia. They all will need to know.” “I can handle that for you, Bello. After all, isn’t that what the _Consul_ is supposed to do?”

Zevran chuckled. “I thought you might like that. I have been thinking of what title to give you for weeks now. And suddenly, in the moment, it came to me. Alistair is always going on about his Consul doing this and that and I thought, _I will have my own Consul_.”

“I like it. It sounds very important.”

“It _is_ very important.” Zevran stood and moved between Nico’s open legs, sliding his hands around his neck and into his hair, playing with the soft curls. “ _You_ are very important. You are the _most_ important.” He leaned in to kiss him, but stopped mid-way when he heard Elanil clear her throat. _I forgot she was here._ He grinned at Nico.

“I’ll go make sure none of the Grandmasters are stirring up any trouble. Call for me if you need anything. Congratulations on a successful mission, Guildmaster.” Elanil left quickly, silently closing the door behind her. 

“Now, where were we?” Zevran pulled Nico closer, and softly brushed their lips together. “I think the letter writing can wait just a little bit longer, _amor_.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY... The wedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say thank you to those of you who read this in one way shape or form and helped encourage me to keep going even in the face of low readership. This was a true labor of love. I LOVE these characters. And I wanted to tell this story, and so I did, with your help.

**Chapter 6**

The sun began to peek over the horizon, and the Rialto Bay shimmered like polished gold in the early morning light, the day promising beautiful, clear weather. Zevran leaned against the banister and stared out over the garden and vineyards, once again marvelling at his circumstances, so very different from where he’d always expected things to be. _And today I am going to marry my love._ He shook his head, grinned and turned, heading back into the bedroom.

Nico was still asleep, his dark curls splayed out across the pillow, one arm tucked behind his head, with his beautiful body bare to the waist. _It is like our first night together, when I went to leave, and looked back at you and knew in my soul that something was different._ He carefully slipped into bed beside him and pressed against his warm body.

Nico shifted, took a deep breath, and pulled him close. “You’re freezing, Bello.” 

Zevran smiled at the sleepiness of his voice. “Not for long, with you to warm me.” He stroked Nico’s cheek with his fingertips. “Shhhh, _amor_. Go back to sleep, it is still early.”

He felt Nico’s lips against the top of his head. “Mmmmm. But we’re getting married today, Bello. I don’t want to sleep.” 

Zevran smiled and softly kissed his neck. “We will be quite busy later, with no time for rest. You should sleep while you can.” Nico nuzzled into his hair. “And what about you, Bello? You’re awake.” His voice was losing the sleepy edge and his hands were starting to wander. 

Zevran grinned and arched against him. “I am awake because I have very important guests arriving this morning, for a very important event this afternoon. I should be there to greet them, and unfortunately I do not have specific arrival times.”

Nico chuckled. “Fair enough. We will wait for them together. Why don’t we bathe and get dressed? Then Emilio can bring us breakfast on the balcony and we can wait for your friends.” Nico kissed his forehead, rolled over him and stumbled out of bed. The cool blast of air was a harsh contrast to the cozy warmth of Nico’s body, and Zevran shivered. Nico held out his hand and grinned sympathetically. “Come, Bello. The water will warm you.” 

Zevran reluctantly crawled out of bed for the second time that morning, and followed Nico. “I would prefer it if _you_ would warm me.”

The bath took a few minutes to fill, and Nico wrapped himself around Zevran’s shivering body. “You know it isn’t even that cold out. It may be Spring, but this _is_ Antiva.” 

Zevran sighed happily and relaxed against him, absorbing as much of his warmth as he could. “And yet I am shivering. But now I have you to keep me warm, _querido_.”

When the basin was full they got undressed, slipped into the water, and Zevran sighed happily as all of him warmed at once. The bath was unhurried. They took their time, soaking for a bit and touching each other softly and affectionately before getting to the business of washing. Zevran loved relaxed moments where they had no need to rush and could enjoy each other’s company. 

Nico kissed the tip of his nose and Zevran smiled, happier than he could remember being. “Come on, Bello, time to get dressed and eat.” 

They dried off and went back into the bedroom to dress, and Zevran’s hands shook slightly as he buttoned his clothing. Nico noticed and took them in his and kissed each palm, thankfully not mentioning anything out loud, but helping him to finish dressing.

_I can face darkspawn, an archdemon, and multiple trained assassins without flinching. And now I am nervous because of a simple ceremony. It does not even involve daggers or blood!_

Nico leaned down and softly kissed him, cupping his face in his hands. “I love you, Bello. You have made me the happiest man alive.” And with that Zevran’s nerves disappeared. He flashed Nico his best smile and finished buttoning his coat. “Of course you do, _querido_. What is not to love?”

 

XXX

 

They had just finished breakfast and were enjoying a quiet moment when Zevran suddenly stopped. Nico noticed and cocked an eyebrow but Zevran put a finger to his lips, quietly rose from his chair and oriented on the sound. Then a huge grin split his face and he started to laugh. “Isabela!”

Her laughter rang out and she climbed the last bit of trellis and swung a leg over the balustrade, vaulting herself at him. He caught her easily and swung her around. “It is my favorite pirate wench!”

“That’s Captain Wench, to you.” She looked over at Nico and winked. “And you must be the mysterious Nico we hear mentioned, although Zev never gives any details.” She openly appraised him and then gave Zevran another quick squeeze. “I knew he had to be good looking, but seriously, he’s gorgeous.” She whispered into Zevran’s ear, “And to hold your attention for this long, he has to be amazing in bed.” She let go of Zevran and sauntered over to Nico, perched herself on the edge of the table and hiked up one leg to rest on the edge of his chair. 

Zevran watched amused, as Nico angled himself in the chair, threw his arm over the back, noted her strategically placed leg and raised an eyebrow at him. Isabela pulled out a dagger and began using the point to clean under her nails. “Nico, it’s good to finally meet you. Zevran has kept you under wraps.” She leaned in conspiratorially and winked. “He’s protective like that.” She suddenly flicked the sharp point of her knife against Nico’s neck and her voice took on a seductive tone. “I’m protective like that too, loverboy. So don’t break his heart.” She trailed the knife tip along the large vein in his throat. “Or things might not go so well for you, even if you _are_ completely delicious.” 

Nico grinned and pressed the knife he kept hidden in his sleeve against the main artery of her thigh. “Understood. I’d back off a bit thought, or things might not turn out as well as you expected.”

“Isabela, enough. Stop threatening him.” Zevran grinned, walked across the balcony to them and slid into Nico’s lap, wiggling ever so slightly. “Did I not warn you he could take care of himself?”

Nico slid the knife back into its sheath and settled his arms around Zevran’s waist. He nuzzled against his ear, softly murmuring, “Behave, Bello. We have company.” 

Zevran chuckled and placed a light kiss against Nico’s mouth. “ It is only Isabela. She is not company. And I always behave, _querido_.”

Isabela scoffed and looked at him. “Rarely appropriately.”

Zevran feigned hurt feelings. “I will have you know that the night I met Nico, he was fending off two would-be assassins. Out of the goodness of my heart I offered my assistance, and once we defeated the attackers I asked him to join me for a drink. I think that was quite appropriate.”

“And then you seduced me into sleeping with you within the first few hours of meeting.” Nico chuckled and kissed his cheek.

 

Isabela threw her head back and laughed. “That sounds like our Zev.” 

 

Zevran placed a hand to his chest and looked affronted. “To be fair, this is not exactly how I recall the situation. I do believe I offered an opportunity for some _trysting_ and you agreed readily.”

Nico’s eyes took on a soft, affectionate look and it made Zevran smile. “That night changed my life forever, Bello.” 

“For the better, I hope.” He gently caressed Nico’s face and leaned in to kiss him.

Isabela made a gagging noise and stood up. “If you two are going to get all mushy then we should probably go downstairs.”

Zevran looked up at her and gave her a cautious look. “Why?”

“Alistair and Varric are probably wondering when we’re going to let them in.” She straightened her knives and looked at them expectantly. “Well, come on! You really shouldn’t leave the King of Ferelden waiting in the street, Zev.” Nico shot out of the chair in a panic and Zevran barely gained his feet. “ _Querido_ , do not fret. It is only Alistair. I am sure he will understand.” But Zevran was already heading towards the bedroom, grinning like a fool and pulling Nico along. He looked back over his shoulder at Isabela. “I did not know they would be with you, Bela. It will be good to see them again.” 

“We were on our way back from a little mission and I invited them along. I knew you wouldn’t mind.” She winked at Nico and followed them through the bedroom and into the hall. 

Zevran squeezed Nico’s hand. “Do not worry, querido. Alistair is a good friend. He will not take offense. You will see.”

Nico sighed and shook his head. “Zevran, he’s the King of Ferelden! Outside my father’s house! Standing like a commoner in the street! Oh Maker, I need to tell my father!”

Zevran shushed him and kissed his hand as the descended the stairs. “We will tell Emilio, and he will tell your father. It will be fine, amor. Do not worry!” They made it to the landing just in time to see Isabela slide down the banister and hop off just at the end, and turn to wait for them to join her.

They descended the remaining stairs in a more sedate manner but Zevran was excited to see his old friend. In recent years he and Alistair had taken up a correspondence, and although he hadn’t mentioned it to Isabela, Zevran had helped Alistair set up this last mission. He was eager to learn the outcome, and gently pressed his hand against Nico’s lower back, moving him forward. “It is your house, _querido_. You should be first to greet them.”

There was a loud knock at the door and Emilio came from nowhere to answer it. After a brief exchange of mumbled words, the front door swung wide and Emilio announced, “Master Nico, Master Zevran. His Royal Highness, King Alistair of Ferelden.”

Nico stepped forward and bowed at the waist. “Your majesty, it is an honor to have you in my home.”

Zevran stepped up behind him and greeted them both with hugs, although with less intensity than he’d hugged Isabela. “My friends! Please come in!” Emilio closed the large wooden doors behind them. “Alistair, may I introduce you to my husband-to-be, Nicolo Valisti, head Consul to the Antivan Crows. Nico, this is Alistair, my long-time friend and the King of Ferelden.” They exchanged handshakes and pleasantries. Zevran noted how much older Alistair seemed, although he still had his boyish good looks. “Your quest went well then, Alistair?”

“Well enough. Didn’t quite turn out as I’d hoped, but there are some leads.” He saw that Alistair’s gaze went from Isabela to Varric, and made a mental note to find out details at the next opportunity. 

He motioned to Varric. “Nico, this is Varric Tethras, kindred spirit and someone I think I would appreciate getting to know better. It is nice to see you again, Varric.” 

“Good to see you too, Stabby. Been a while. Nico, pleasure to meet you. Sorry to crash your shindig, but the three of us have been adventuring together, and Isabela said you wouldn’t mind.” 

“We don’t mind at all. You are definitely welcome.” Nico shook his hand and Zevran cocked an eyebrow at Isabela who shrugged. 

“You sent Alistair off on his own and he was smart enough to ask for my help. I was smart enough to bring Varric along.”

Zevran chuckled. “Well, I was a bit preoccupied with a small personal matter and could not get away.”

Nico chuckled. “The overthrow of the Crow hierarchy, your subsequent takeover, and self-appointment to the top spot is just a _small personal matter_?”

Zevran shrugged and steared everyone out through the main doors to the patio. “All in a day’s work, _querido_.”

Emilio brought everyone refreshments and Alistair was just beginning to tell them about his escapade into the Silent Forest when Emilio cleared his throat. “Pardon your Majesty. Master Zevran, Master Nico— Sister Leliana has arrived.”

Zevran rose and turned to see Leliana step onto the patio. He took both of her hands in his and kissed each one. “Leliana, welcome. I was pleasantly surprised when you accepted our invitation. I assumed that you would have more pressing business.”

She laughed warmly. “Zev, what could possibly be more important that meeting the man who finally captured the heart of the most notorious Antivan lothario?” 

He laughed with her and moved them closer to the table. Alistair rose and they exchanged a warm hug and she kissed him on his cheek. “Alistair, you look tired, but well. Ruling Ferelden must agree with you.” He made a disgusted sound but left it at that. She nodded to Isabela and Varric. “It’s good to see you both again, and under more happy circumstances this time.” 

Isabela winked at her saucily. “Sister Nightingale. Looking lovely as ever. Been a while, sweets. We should catch up.”

Leliana laughed and winked back. “I’m afraid the Hero of Ferelden wouldn’t approve, although I am flattered you are still interested.”

Isabela pouted. “Rejected outright! I’m not sure my ego can handle this wedding, Zev.”

Varrick raised his glass to her. “It’s alright Rivaini. Have a drink. It’ll help ease the sting.”

“You know Varric, I’ve still got my eye on _you_.” She grinned and rolled her eyes at Zevran.

“Keep dreaming, Rivaini. I only have eyes for Bianca.” He patted the crossbow which he’d set beside his chair.

Leliana raised an eyebrow at Zev and nodded towards Nico. “Leliana, this is Nico, whom I am sure you already know everything about. Nico, this is Sister Leliana, currently the Left Hand of the Divine, and one of the best spies in all of Thedas.”

She grinned and took Nico’s outstretched hand. “ _The_ best.” She winked at Nico. “But you are a very close second, Zevran. My spy network is just better funded. Nico, it is truly a pleasure to meet you. It is to your credit that Zevran didn’t approach his quest for revenge with reckless abandon, getting himself killed in the process. There were times in the beginning when he had me worried.”

Nico shook his head. “I’m not sure that he _didn’t_ approach it with reckless abandon even after we met. It certainly seemed like it to me.” 

Emilio appeared again. “Pardon the interruption. May I present Mother Alicia and Stefano Valisti.”

“Ooooh! Nico, your older brother is quite handsome!” Isabela jumped up, sauntered across the patio, and slipped her arm through Stefano’s. “I’m Isabela. It is so nice to meet you Stefano.” She gave him a brazen smile and a wink, and he chuckled and looked at Nico, who shrugged but didn’t correct her. Then her voice took on a disdainful tone. “And Mother Alicia, whom I’ve heard so much about. Here to make the wedding _official_ in the eyes of the _Chantry_.” Isabela turned to Zevran and tsked at him. “So very _upstanding citizen_ of you Zev.”

“There is nothing wrong with making a marriage official in the eyes of the Maker.” Mother Alicia nodded to Zevran and stepped onto the patio. “Especially for someone in Zevran’s political position. It solidifies his legitimacy if he embraces at least a few social customs.”

“And makes it easier to explain his frequent comings and goings into the Antivan Chantry.” Leliana winked at Mother Alicia, who nodded her agreement. “Sister Nightingale. A pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Likewise, Mother Alicia. The Divine appreciates your assistance in sheltering Sister Rejeanne, and your ongoing support.” 

Zevran watched the exchange with amusement, and some relief when the two women appeared to come to an understanding. “My friends, as you may have gathered, this is Mother Alicia of the Antivan Chantry, and Nico’s _father_ , Stefano.”

There was a burst of laughter from inside the house as a few more guests arrived. Nico went inside to greet them and bring them outside to the group. “King Alistair, Sister Leliana, Mother Alicia, Varric and Isabela, may I introduce my friends, Elanil, First Talon, and Marco, Francesco and Giselle. They are Crows from House Cardoso, and practically family.”

Zevran greeted the new arrivals with hugs and handshakes, and then clapped his hands once. “It would seem that everyone is here.” He looked at Nico. “Are you ready, _amor_?”

Nico smiled softly and held out his hand. Zevran willingly took it and squeezed gently. “I should probably be asking you that question, Bello. But, yes, I am more than ready to make you my husband. Finally.” 

“Then let us all step into the garden and make this official.” Zevran led everyone into the center of the garden and into a small clearing with a few stone benches and a fountain. 

Mother Alicia walked to the front of the group and turned to face everyone. “Zevran and Nicolo, a wedding ceremony is an outward symbol. To be right and true in the eyes of the Maker it must be a reflection of something that you both truly feel; a love that you both share.” She motioned for them to step forward. “Therefore, I ask you both, as you stand in the presence of your family and friends, to remember that love, loyalty and compassion are the foundation of a happy and enduring home. If you endeavor to always live according to the best that is within each of you, your life together will be full of joy, peace and love. Zevran and Nicolo, please link hands.”

Zevran took a deep breath to calm his nerves, and reached out for Nico’s right hand. Mother Alicia stepped towards them, wrapping their wrists loosely in a red velvet rope. “This Handfasting cord symbolizes the binding of your two lives into one. May you be forever unified, sharing in all things, in love and loyalty for all time to come.” 

She placed her hand on top of theirs and continued. “Zevran and Nicolo, these are the hands of your best friend, young and strong and full of love for you, holding yours on your wedding day, as you promise to love each other forever. These hands will work alongside yours as you build your future together, that will passionately love you and cherish you through the years, and with the slightest touch, will comfort you like no other. These hands will hold you when fear or sadness fills your mind, and will wipe the tears from your eyes; tears of sorrow, and tears of joy. These hands will give you strength, and even when wrinkled and aged, will still be reaching for yours, still giving you the same unspoken tenderness with just a touch.”

Mother Alicia reached into the folds of her robes and brought out two simple gold bands. “Zevran and Nicolo have decided to exchange rings as an outward symbol to the world of their personal commitment to each other. Zevran, please place the ring on Nicolo’s finger.”

His stomach swooped with anticipation. _This is it. This is real._ He met Nico’s gaze and returned his soft smile, feeling a serene calm settle over him. He placed the ring on Nico’s finger. _This feels so right._ “Nicolo, I give you this ring in token of my love and devotion, and with all of my heart, I pledge to you all that I am. With this ring, I marry you and join my life to yours.” Nico smiled at him, his eyes filled with unshed tears. Zevran swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat, and took a deep breath. 

Nico’s hand shook as he placed the ring on Zevran’s finger, and his voice trembled with emotion. “Zevran, I give you this ring in token of my love and devotion, and with all of my heart, I pledge to you all that I am. With this ring, I marry you and join my life to yours.” 

Zevran couldn’t stop smiling and squeezed Nico’s hand while Mother Alicia continued. “Now that you Zevran, and you, Nicolo, here in front of your family, friends and the Maker, have promised through your sacred vows, and through the giving and receiving of these rings, to give yourselves to one another and to love each other, I pronounce you wed.”

Nico raised his still shaking hand to Zevran’s cheek, and smiled down at him, as a few gentle tears rolled down his cheeks. “I love you, _mio marito_.” Zevran leaned up and gently kissed him, keeping it chaste, but lingering against his lips, then wiped away his tears “ _Te amo también, mi esposo_.” 

Mother Alicia removed the handfasting cord and they walked back through their friends, receiving their congratulations and lots of hugs and handshakes. The party moved back to the patio for a sumptuous lunch where several toasts were made to the newlyweds, and the wine and stories flowed freely. 

It was approaching evening when one by one the guests gave their final congratulations and took their leave. Before Isabela departed she pulled them aside. “Well, boys, marriage isn’t something I normally condone. Nor is it something I ever expected to see you do, Zev, but here we are.” She shrugged. “It certainly is a very public way of saying _I have more than the hots for you_. Although if you have the hots for someone you don’t need to get married to be flipped ass over tits and be hammered like a bent nail…” Zevran laughed and caught Nico’s eye and they both smiled broadly. He took Nico’s hand and squeezed it briefly, feeling the press of the new ring against his fingers. 

Isabela winked at Zev. “I have a wedding present for you.” Zevran frowned, slightly worried. _There is no telling what this might be, coming from Isabela_. 

“Don’t frown, it’s nothing embarrassing.” She handed him a velvet pouch and he slowly opened the drawstring and tipped the contents into his palm. An ornamental dagger slid out, hilt first, and he recognized it as a blade usually worn by a Talon. He raised an eyebrow and waited for the explanation. “Claudio’s. We ran into him on Alistair’s quest. I know he was supposed to be your last target. Sorry if I spoiled anything, but that piece of offal didn’t deserve to take another breath. So I’m giving you the knife and his extermination as a wedding gift.”

Zevran stared at her for a minute, processing what she’d said and then felt a bit dizzy and clutched at Nico’s hand.. _It is truly over. There is no one left to hunt down._ They all had paid the ultimate price for their greed and ambition and he felt as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “Isabela.” He was at a loss for words, but the concerned look on her face made him push forward. “Thank you, Isabela.” He looked to Nico, afraid of his reaction. Nico knew what a monster Claudio was. He’d heard it directly from his father, but he was still family. Zevran saw that he shouldn’t have worried. 

Nico clapped Zevran on the shoulder and smiled. “It’s over, Bello. It’s well and truly over.” 

Zevran sighed with relief, and turned back to Isabela, pulling her into a tight embrace. “Thank you, Bela. You have done what I could not, and I will be forever grateful.”

She kissed him, playfully nipping at his lower lip and pulling back with it still gently between her teeth. “For old time’s sake.” She winked at Nico. “I’d give you the same, but I’m sure you’d rather get that from Zev. Though if you ever change your mind…” She blew him a kiss instead and turned to leave. 

“You are welcome here anytime, Isabela.” Nico pulled Zevran close as she departed, wrapping an arm around his waist. “We are free of the final ghost, Bello. There is nothing left hanging over our heads.”

Zevran felt the shaking in his limbs and clung to Nico, overwhelmed. All of the worry and guilt and regret he’d felt over Rinna, and his fear for Nico, all washed away with the final death, and he felt cleansed. Isabela would never know the magnitude of the gift she’d given them. He felt an astonishingly intense rush of love for his husband, who had stood by him through the whole ordeal, and supported him in every way possible. He felt a prickling behind his eyes and his chest felt tight with emotion. 

“Bello, what’s wrong?” 

Nico’s concern made him smile. “Nothing at all, _querido_. Everything is right, finally. And I could not have done this without you. You have always been there for me, helping to put my past to rest. You look out for my wellbeing. You have helped me to become someone new. Someone I am proud to be. And I love you with all of my heart and soul. There is nothing I would not do for you, _amor_. Nothing. You are my life, and I am gladly undone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The wedding vows were adapted from an online source, Reverend Deb Viola’s Ceremonies of the Heart. www.ceremoniesoftheheart.net 
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated in the form of constructive comments, and kudos, or just come say hi on tumblr or Twitter!


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